


Mistletoe

by Illusioneery (Arkee)



Series: Memento [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Christmas Fluff, M/M, There's Just So Much Fluff In This That My Teeth Have Rotted, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkee/pseuds/Illusioneery
Summary: The tears Cloud shed had a hint of hope for the times yet to come; for the life they'd restarted together.





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Mistletoe's evergreen leaves are a symbol of the life that doesn't die; and a note for those forever united by an eternal love.
> 
> -
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone! It's time to get (super) sappy!
> 
> For those who make fandom an amazing place to be: Thank you. I hope we're all together and aboard this train next year as well.
> 
> For those who left us this year in a way or another: Thanks for the time you spent here; for what you crafted, even if it's no longer here. I will remember you and the impact you had on me. I hope we can meet again someday.

**XXIV.**

Their living room is full of decorations Sephiroth doesn’t remember either of them putting up; presents under a tree that he only recalls the origin of because of those arriving on that exact day, most of which are addressed to Cloud.

He tries not to think about why their tree — white with colorful decorations and blinking lights — feels so familiar for reasons he can’t place, but that definitely must have nothing to do with a warm living room or a winter celebration. He tries his best not to think that he probably won’t remember any of whatever happens during this night the next day.

Instead, Sephiroth focus on the fact that it doesn’t really matter whether or not he gets gifts from anyone else, for Cloud is there and that alone is a gift in itself.

 _Cloud_.

Cloud who bothers with filling in his blanks every single morning without fail, pointing out to him the most relevant entries of his journal and telling the things Sephiroth must know that aren’t written or that would require reading the entirety of the journal to find again. A short, chocobo-haired man he has been dating for quite a while now, even if he always forgets whether that’s been happening for just a couple months or years and has to ask, only to forget; again and again and again, requiring yet another encore.

Cloud who appears from the kitchen, bringing with him a delicious looking turkey, causing Sephiroth to stand up to help him with that so they can get the rest of the food to their dinner room.

( _“The Wonder Night,” the blond explained during their morning routine — maybe once again, for all he knew — as he couldn’t remember the occasion or the reason for all the decorations around the house, “a time to show gratitude for what the year that passed brought us and to start preparing for the next one.”_ )

Were them to be regular civilians, all that food would turn out to be too much for just two people. But of course, there was something that made the pair of them different from the others. Something that Cloud refuses to explain in detail to him whenever he asks about it as apparently the concept of it could put them both in danger for whatever reason.

Something that also keeps them both from getting drunk easily as they sit in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine after dinner, but that certainly doesn’t keep Cloud from smiling a little too much at him.

“I thought I would never get to have a night like this with you,” says the blond as he leans his head against Sephiroth’s shoulder.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Uhn... when we first started dating, we never made it through the entire year. Let’s just say... something _really_ bad happened before that.”

“And then we broke up or...?”

“Sort of? It’s complicated. I wish I could forget that.”

“Let’s forget it, then,” Sephiroth offers, “Forgetting is my specialty, after all.”

Cloud chuckles beside him, and due to the proximity, not only he hears it but he also feels the way it rocks them both just slightly. He focuses on that to avoid the feeling that the fire in front of them should bring back a memory of something probably not related to fireplaces; a feeling that’s just that and doesn’t help to improve his condition at all.

“Gaia... you’re spending too much time around me. I feel like a bad influence.”

Sephiroth turns just enough to press a kiss against blond spikes.

“I think you’re the best influence I could have.”

The blond looks at him for a moment too long, stunned by his words almost as though they’re a ghost of something else, before standing up and leaving for their room.

**XXV.**

When he gets to Cloud, the blond’s sitting on a corner of the bed, legs close to his chest while trying to muffle his sobs.

Sephiroth doesn’t quite understand what’s wrong but sits by the other man’s side anyway; curious yet not demanding an answer, simply running a hand up and down his boyfriend’s back in an attempt to be comforting. Something about a weeping Cloud never fails to make him feel strange, albeit not in a way that breaks his heart.

(Almost as if it feels _right_ that the blond is crying.)

It’s a frightening sensation that he pushes aside in the face of more pressing matters, like Cloud moving onto his lap and hiding his face against his neck.

“You told me that same thing...” he eventually whispers, “Before _it_ happened. And I... forgot about that... for the longest time...”

“And is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I d-don’t know... Gaia, I don’t know.” The blond takes in a deep, shaky breath. “I just... maybe I’m afraid of losing you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Cloud,” says Sephiroth, his arms tightening around the other man, “You’re my home. I don’t want to leave and forget my way back.”

There’s a low sound, an unsure mix of a sob and a chuckle that’s endearing in its own awkward way. Cloud’s eyes are reddened, making the blue of them somehow more intense than it usually is, and there are trails of tears on his cheeks, but when he backs away to look at the silver haired man, he’s smiling.

“You’ve always been a big sap.”

The kiss the blond gives him tastes like wine and salty tears with a hint of hope, and Sephiroth wishes he could store the feeling of it somewhere to keep himself from forgetting it when the morning comes, the way he does with most things that happen during the day. It doesn’t help much that he’s unable to remember any of their shared past — and basically all of his own past — and it’s even worse that his mind prevents him from keeping the memories that will be past tomorrow.

It has Sephiroth wondering for a brief moment whether the tears he’s tasting into the kiss are Cloud’s or his own.

“I want to spend another year with you,” says the silver haired man, as they part for air.

“Just one year?” Cloud teases.

Sephiroth shakes his head.

“One, ten, fifty... all of them. And even if I end up remembering all I need to know in the morning I want to keep falling in love with you again every day.”

This earns him a push, just enough for his back to hit the mattress and not fast enough to keep him from grabbing Cloud’s wrists and pulling him down too.

“Gaia, Seph. I called you a big sap but this is too much—“ The blond begins but interrupts himself with a gasp as Sephiroth produces a little box out of... apparently nowhere; maybe a pocket, maybe from under the pillow. Cloud doesn’t really notice it until it’s being offered to him, freezing in place as it’s opened to reveal a band of silver.

“Spend the rest of your life with me?”

“I... Yes. Oh Gaia, yes.” Cloud starts crying again, but he also chuckles after he goes for another kiss; torn between tears and laughter. “But... when did you even buy a ring?”

“I don’t remember,” comes the reply, however with a smile, unlike the many other things he realizes through the days that he doesn’t remember doing. “Maybe we’ll know someday.”

“You should note those things down.”

“You’d read it and we’d ruin the surprise, my little bird.”

Cloud freezes again, crying more and protesting that Sephiroth’s going to make him cry all night long if he keeps this up; that all of this is unfair because all he got as a gift in return is a scarf he made himself and in comparison to it Sephiroth feels like a gift that keeps giving, the true wonder of the Wonder Night. A realization hits, much like being hit by the leaves of a plant hanging above or having a brown, autumn leaf fly right on one’s face: so suddenly that he’s not prepared at all for it.

“I used to call you that, didn’t I? When you were in the infantry... little bird, blue bird.”

“You remembered. Gaia... I didn’t even tell you about the military... that’s two things at once.”

He keeps trying to wipe away the blond’s tears but there are so many and he’s still processing that a part of the past he’d lost just returned to him that it seems like an impossible task.

“Next year... I want you to stop forgetting...”

Sephiroth simply agrees with a kiss.


End file.
